


The Studio

by iloveitblue



Series: Prompts [281]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, ballet dancer!Clint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 20:38:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4579239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iloveitblue/pseuds/iloveitblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where they meet under different circumstances - aka, the one where Clint is a ballet dancer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Studio

**Author's Note:**

> Phil took one look at the sign on the shop and frowned. “Are you sure this is the address?” Phil asked into the comm. 

“What do you mean am I sure? Of course I’m sure.” Jasper snarked back. “I know how to read addresses too, you know.” 

Phil rolled his eyes and shook his head at the man’s need for dramatics. “Well, I’m standing at the address you gave me and it’s a dance studio.” He said even while he tried to see into the glass windows. 

“Maybe it’s a cover.” Jasper suggested. “I wouldn’t put it past Hawkeye to have a cover or something.”

“Maybe.” Phil told him. “But I still don’t see how being-”

“Can I help you?” Phil turned to find a man holding the door open. The man was younger than Phil was and judging by the tights, Phil assumed he worked in the studio.

“Ah, I was just looking through different studios to enroll my daughter in. I heard about this place from my neighbor and thought to check it out.” Phil lied easily.

“Oh, then would you like to come in? I’m sure the owner would be able to answer any questions you might have.” The man said with a smile.

“You’re not the owner?” 

“Afraid not. I’m just a student here.” He grinned at Phil before lowering his voice to a faux-whisper. “And I’m sure I’m being biased, but this place is awesome.”

Phil chuckled, “I’ll keep that in mind then.” 

“I’m Clint, by the way. Clint Barton. Premier Danseur, à votre service” 

“Oh, vous parlez français? Ah, mon nom es-” 

“Whoa. I’m not sure what you just said, but I think it’s french. Sorry, I only know how to say that one phrase, and counting un, deux, trois.” Clint shrugged. 

“That’s okay. My name is Phil.” Phil shook his head fondly. “Shall we?” Phil gestured for the door and Clint nodded, holding the door for Phil to enter. 

“Looks like someone’s got a crush” Jasper sing-songed over the comm. Phil decidedly ignored him.

Clint rang the bell on the desk, “Mrs. Harper. Someone’s here to ask about the studio.” 

“Oh, dear. Tell them I’m not home, would you sweetie?” A frail sounding voice came from the back. Phil gave Clint a raised eyebrow and Clint smiled apologetically.

“No, Mrs. Harper, it’s a candidate.” Clint turned to Phil then. “She’ll only be a minute. and, uh- don’t let the voice fool you. She’s actually not that old. Mrs. Harper is a great teacher, if not a slave driver.”

“What was that, Clint, dear boy?” A woman, no older than 60, appeared behind the reception desk. Clint immediately stood straight at the sound of her voice and gave Phil for what passed as terrible acting. 

“I was just telling Phil how wonderful and talented you are. Anyway, I think I hear someone calling. I better go see what they want.” Clint beat a hasty retreat to the back room. 

“Whatever he told you, it’s a lie.” Mrs. Harper opened.

“So this isn’t the best ballet studio in the country?” Phil put his full charm on, if anyone in this place knew about Hawkeye, it would be this woman.

“Oh, honey, no. This is the best in the world.” Mrs. Harper gave him a wink and a laugh. 

—

Talking to Mrs. Harper turned into a 2-hour job, one which Phil didn’t quite hate. Mrs. Harper was a lovely woman to talk to and by talking to her, Phil has found out a few things about this establishment. 

The studio had been open for more than 20 years, but Mrs. Harper’s late husband put them into so much debt, that 5 years after the man passed, Mrs. Harper still hasn’t made a dent in their debts. She is forced to sell the studio at the end of the month if she doesn’t deliver. 

Another thing Phil found was that somebody, Mrs. Harper isn’t sure who to thank yet, was leaving money in the studio every Wednesday. Coincidentally, the night that Hawkeye was spotted lurking this area. Mrs. Harper has yet to use any of the money because as she said, It’s not hers to keep and should the owner ever come back, then she’d readily hand them the money back. The money, as it turns out, have accumulated to over $250,000 but Mrs. Harper is insistent that she’s giving the money back.

It gave no reason for doubt, Hawkeye was the one leaving the money to help save the studio. Only question was why. Phil has asked Mrs. Harper and she informed him that no, she didn’t have children of her own. Nor did she have any immediate next of kin. Which was probably why the loan sharks were getting more and more insistent that she pay the debts her husband left. 

Somehow though, Hawkeye was connected to Mrs. Harper. 

Phil’s gaze fell to the small window looking into the actual studio. Clint was dancing with a few children when the girl who Phil assumed was the Prima Ballerina called for him. Phil watched as they both danced to music Phil couldn’t hear. The gracefulness of each wave of hand and the feather light landing of each jump. They both made it look so easy. 

“He’s a darling, that one.” Mrs. Harper piped. 

“Who?”

“Clint. You know he’s been with this studio for 7 years. The first time I met him, he was like a wounded drowned cat. Dirty, and full of injuries that boy was. He got mugged, he says but I never believed that story. He looked to bloody to only have been mugged. I didn’t tell him that though. Instead, I fixed him back up and offered him to stay for the night. My husband was not happy about it, but he’s not happy about many things, so I chose to ignore it. The next day, that boy enrolled into my studio. I still don’t know where he lives or what his job is but he’s a great boy. Has a heart bigger than he’d like people to see.” 

And with that, Phil finally found Hawkeye.

—

“You can’t prove anything.” Clint leered at him.

“Maybe. But the fact that you seem to know who I’m talking about is enough to give me reason to believe that you’re connected to him somehow.” Phil explained coolly.

“You’ve got the wrong guy.” Clint shook his head. “I’m not Hawkeye.” 

“I’d love to say that I believe you, but I really can’t. Look, I am not here to capture you or whatever it is you think I’m here to do.” 

“Then what are you here for?” 

Phil shrugged, “I want to help you.”

Clint snorted, “Wow, that’s so original. I’ve never heard that one before.” 

“I never said I was original.” Phil smirked. “I’m just asking you to come in to SHIELD. Talk with my boss and then if you don’t like the terms, then you’re free to leave. No strings attached.” 

“I-”

“And as an incentive, we’re saving the studio. Well, I say saving, but it’s really more of saved. The debts are cleared. The studio is safe. Whatever you decide now, or later, will not change that.” 

Clint didn’t speak for a moment, just stared at Phil with narrowed eyes. “Why are you doing this?”

“I told you, we want to help.” 

Clint shook his head softly. “No, you want Hawkeye. You want me to kill someone.” 

“We want you to help us protect the world.”

“Protect the world? From what? Evil? In case you haven’t noticed-”

“We have. That’s why we need you. We have many talented people, but none of them can do what you do, and we believe we can use your skills for something better than random assassinations. Don’t you think so too?”

Clint gave it a minute before finally sighing, and nodding. “Fine. I’ll go with you. But if I don’t like it, I’m going straight back out, and you never bother me again, are we clear?”

Phil smiled, “Crystal.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Here on tumblr](http://promptmephlint.tumblr.com/post/126749369146/im-so-tired-i-walked-a-lot-today-oh-and-nonie)


End file.
